Monday, May 16, 2005

Every morning starts with breakfast and then Darby on the piano for 45 minutes. Then Jolie for 30 minutes. There's no volume on the piano. So for and hour and 15 minutes, I am hearing the piano in addition to other (sweet - infinitely precious) kids (retelling stories, singing a completely different song from what's being played on the piano, whining, asking for more juice, telling me cool things I need to know - i.e., Two-year-old Cody eating Cheerios: "Mama...mama.....mama...mama.....MAMA.......... What, Cody? Mama, Anthony got kicked off, didn't he?), answering the phone, listening to the dog barking and barking and barking and barking, doing anything I do with piano in the background. Normal, sweet life turned slighty cacophony-ish (yes, I have mentioned this before...).

Loud. Not ugly, not even close. But hard to handle sometimes. I can see why they made that Calgon commercial the way they did.

For me, doing life during piano practice is like trying filter chicken noodle soup through a towel. Some gets through, but it's pretty frustrating and you know a whole lot of the good stuff didn't get to the other side.

I wish it didn't make me so tense, but it does. Is it the sign of some type of aging mama disorder? Overloaded Brain Can't Take Any More Noise Or Activity At This Moment Or I'll Spontaneously Combust Syndrome. That's it.

I'm thinking about working in my garden during piano practice. Quietly pulling weeds and building little rock barriers where the bunnies are digging holes under the fence. (All bunnies except the headless one Ben our dog was proudly and giddily - he was so, so, so happy - carrying all around the yard all day Friday - the decapitated prize bunny, covered in blood, dog slobber and flies. That one's not getting into the garden any more...)

And on that sunshiny note, I am off to escape piano practice.

Psalm 70:5 Yet I am poor and needy;come quickly to me, O God.You are my help and my deliverer;O Lord, do not delay.